I Feel Nothing
by Witherwings01
Summary: With his relationship with Lily in tatters, Severus Snape takes his final step towards the Dark Side. Written for respitechristopher and Sara Winters.


_**Author Notes **__- Hello everybody. This piece has come about as a result of a ... er ... let's say a challenge, handed down to me by respitechristopher and Sara Winters (fellow FFnet authors - check out their stuff if you haven't already...it's aces!). It takes place shortly after the incident Harry witnessed in Snape's memories from C28 OotP - i.e. Snape calling Lily a mudblood. It is my challengers belief that teenage Snape would have been something of an emo poet, and as such this story had to contain a piece of Snapoetry. Read on (if you dare) and may god have mercy on our souls!_

_**Disclaimer**: Jo Rowling owns Potter - even emo!Snape. _

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><p><strong>I Feel Nothing<strong>

Severus Snape walked with his hands pushed deep into his pockets, his shoulders hunched and his eyes blindly starring at the toes of his shoes protruding from beneath the folds of his robes as they carried him through the dark and all but deserted hallways of the castle.

Away from Gryffindor tower.

Away from his only reason to try and be better than he was.

Away from _her_.

After his run in with James Potter following their O.W.L. examination, Severus had gone to the seventh floor corridor to wait outside the portrait of a fat woman which he knew hid the secret entrance to the Gryffindor common room in the hopes of seeing his oldest friend - his only friend - to beg her forgiveness for ever uttering _that_ word. When at last, she had finally consented to see him it was well after curfew and Severus, having spent many hours sat cross legged on the floor, winced as he re-found his feet, his muscles protesting vociferously after such a long period of inactivity.

_"I'm sorry."_

_"I'm not interested."_

_"I'm Sorry!"_

_"Save your breath!"_

The unmistakable look of contempt evident in the depths of the beautiful green eyes that he loved so dearly told him that the bond they shared - whatever it had been - was broken, perhaps irreversibly.

_"I can't pretend any more. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."_ Lily's last words, spoken, as if to a stranger, were like a dagger to his heart, but he knew he deserved nothing better. No amount of bullying, embarrassment or humiliation could justify his actions toward her.

Although he wanted nothing more than to break into a run and sprint all the way back to his dormitory, pull the heavy drapes around his four poster bed and never come out again, Severus forced his feet to maintain their unhurried rhythm - he had no desire for his heavy footfalls to attract the attention of one of the teachers, or worse, Potter and his gang of arrogant thugs.

It was now well after sunset, but the uncommon heat and humidity of the latest in a series of swelteringly hot summer days in the Scottish highlands still lingered and Severus could feel the beads of sweat trickling down his collar as he turned a corner he knew would lead him to the main staircase, and ultimately, the sanctuary of the Slytherin Dungeons.

"Oi, Snivellus!"

_Just my luck._ Severus's hand tightened around the shaft of his wand, held deep within the pocket of his robe but forced himself not to react outwardly as he heard the voice of the very person responsible for his dismay - _Potter_.

It was Potter who had baited him into loosing control of his temper. Potter who had incensed him to such a point that he had called his one true love a name he couldn't even bare to think of. Potter who had driven Lily from him forever, and he hated him for it.

"OI! I'm talking to you - " James's taunting voice was closer now, but Severus still did not acknowledge his presence. " - or has all that grease finally clogged up your ears?"

Laughter followed swiftly on the heels of Potter's insult but Severus kept his eyes downcast and hidden from sight behind the lank curtains of black hair. For although he had long since learnt not to cry, not to show weakness - his Father had taught him that one small thing at least - he did not wish to give his nemesis the satisfaction of seeing even a fraction of the hurt and self loathing he felt at that moment reflected there.

"There's no McGonagall around to protect your backside now, Snivelly."

Severus ground his teeth as the goading voice of the blood-traitor, Black, joined in the verbal assault. That he owed what little remained of his dignity to Minerva McGonagall - a Gryffindor _and_ a member of the Order of the Phoenix - rankled him almost as much as being humiliated by James Potter's attempts to remove his underwear whilst dangling upside down.

"Didn't your filthy Slytherin mother ever tell you it was rude to ignore - "

"YOU DON'T SAY A WORD ABOUT MY MOTHER!" roared Snape, cutting across the last insult as he spun on his heel levelling his wand at James Potter's chest.

"Looks like you've hit a nerve there, Prongs," remarked Sirius.

"Well you know what they say," replied James with a smirk. "The truth hurts."

"SECTUMSEMPRA!"

A bright light raced from Severus's wand tip as he slashed it downwards, but James, having been wounded by the very same curse earlier that afternoon simply deflected it away from his body, the curse striking a nearby wall instead where it left a scorch mark the size of a bludger.

"Levicorpus." Sirius's jinx was said almost lazily, but the accompanying wrist movement still hoisted Severus into the air, his wand slipping from his grasp and clattering to the ground several feet below his head.

"Now, now Snivellus," said James, advancing on his inverted body. "Don't they teach trainee Death Eaters like you how to count? One skinny, pasty faced grease ball against two powerful, clever and legendary wizards like ourselves - "

"I think you forgot handsome, debonair and charming," added Sirius.

James's smirk grew wider. "Quite right, Padfoot. A skinny grease ball like you never stood a chance against us!"

"Give me my wand and we'll see about that," retorted Snape, seething at the indignity of having a spell which he invented employed to harass him.

"Perhaps in a bit," replied James non-committally, "but I'm pretty sure we have some unfinished business to attend to first."

"That we do," put in Sirius. "Something about an apology."

"Ah yes, you besmirched the honour of a lady."

"She doesn't want my apology!" Severus spat the reply before he even realised his mouth had voiced his inner torment.

"Smart girl that Evans," said James. "Beautiful _and_ a good judge of character - I think I'm in love..."

"Why you!" The rest of Severus's furious outburst was lost beneath a barely coherent string of curses and hexes as he kicked and flailed in mid-air, only ceasing his struggles to free himself as a new voice echoed down the corridor:

"What's going on here? Who's there?"

"JAMES, IT'S FILCH! RUN!"

"Student's out of bed! STUDENT'S OUT OF BED!" Although distant, the unmistakable wheezing voice of the school caretaker drew closer with every second and James acquiesced and quickly muttered the counter-curse dropping Severus several feet to the unyielding stone floor below before bolting in the opposite direction of Filch's shouts.

Paying no heed to the flare of white hot pain as his nose impacted the flagstone floor, Severus grabbed his wand, "AXELO!"

Purple flame belched towards the receding backs of his foe's, a wave of savage pleasure surging through his body as he saw James take a glancing blow to the shoulder, the impact sending him pinwheeling to the ground.

Now Severus did run, pumping his legs for all they were worth without so much as a backwards glance. Filch would find Potter first and, regardless of his vendetta against the student population as a whole, would surely take him to the hospital wing to receive the medical attention he would need - even a glancing blow from the curse would, Severus knew, require at least a weeks treatment with more than half a dozen different potions. By the time anyone could come looking for him he would be safe in the Slytherin Dungeons where his housemates would undoubtedly provide him with an alibi for the time of Potter's attack - Dumbledore might be a fool, but he was nothing if not consistent and Snape felt confident he would not hand out a punishment without proof.

Dimly he noticed that his feet had already brought him within sight of the hidden entrance to the common room and he barked the password, pounding down the the concealed corridor almost without breaking stride.

His appearance at such a late hour drew not even a glance from his housemates crowded around the common room and he quickly made his way to his dormitory, finding it mercifully unoccupied. He threw himself onto his mattress and wrenched the drapes closed behind him firing off a series of non-verbal privacy wards by rote; it was the Slytherin way after all - every Slytherin first year was taught how to ward their personal space within the first week of term.

Lying back on his pillow he attempted to calm the racing heartbeat that was pounding in his ears by slowing his ragged breaths by sheer force of will - his alibi would be much more believable if it did not appear that he had recently run a marathon.

Satisfied that he had succeeded in his task he rolled on his side, his gaze coming to rest on a single piece of parchment poking out from under his pillow. It read:

_**To A Fair Flower, So Close To Bloom**_

_Beauteous flower of Surrey,_

_Of crimson fringe and golden smile_

_From whom one gaze of emerald can bring to one's ears_

_The joy of a sparrows call. To one's eyes_

_The bliss of a summer's sunset: To one's arms_

_The anticipation of twilight's chill: And to one's heart_

_Life itself._

The tears he had thus far held back now came in force, his vision blurring as he re-read the words he had written to his beloved; she would never hear them now. Never know how deeply he cared for her - _loved_ her. All because of Potter!

Enraged, he pulled open the hidden compartment he had discovered in his bed frame his first night at Hogwarts and roughly pulled out the countless pieces of yellowing a paper he had deposited there over his five years at the school. His eyes fell upon one at random:

_Your hair is like the red flames,_

_Warming my cold cauldron,_

_Your eyes a green light,_

_Shining brighter than the moon._

The scream of frustration he directed to the heavens would have brought the entire teaching staff running to investigate were it not for his silencing charms. In a fit of piqué he tore the verse in his hands to shreds before turning his wand upon the others."REDUCTO! INCENDIO! ERRADICO!"

Panting hard once more, Severus found himself in a storm of tiny pieces of paper which had been either ripped, burnt or torn to shreds, their contents now lost for all time. Trembling slightly, he allowed his dark gaze to rake over the destruction he had wrought as the snow storm of paper settled, his eyes pausing as they came across a single sheet of parchment which remained whole. He was about to blast that into it's constituent atoms too when he registered that it was unadorned.

Putting down his wand, he snatched up the piece of paper in one hand and extracted a self inking quill from his robe pocket with the other. Bending his head low so that his curtains of hair nearly touched the bedding he began furiously scratching away at the parchment.

_I feel nothing,_

_Nothing of shame despite your contemptuous look,_

_I feel nothing,_

_Nothing of remorse over the differing paths we tread,_

_I feel nothing,_

_Nothing of the pain of words left unsaid,_

_I feel nothing, _

_Nothing of the guilt of those that I did,_

_I feel nothing,_

_Nothing of love,_

_Nothing of joy,_

_Nothing._

Anyone else who might have read the tear streaked parchment could not fail to recognise the words as lies, but Severus did not care, the physical act of putting those lies to paper proved cathartic to him and he dried his tears with the back of his sleeves.

Scanning the smudged writing one last time, he directed his wand tip towards the parchment and muttered an incantation. He watched dispassionately as flames licked at what he knew would be his last poem, first blackening the corners, before curling into ash.

With the last remnants of his old life destroyed, Severus stood, his face taking on a mask of indifference. From this day forth no one would know the best of him.

"I feel nothing," he whispered before striding purposefully from the dormitory, his cape billowing behind him like an angry shadow.

- FIN -

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><p><em><strong>Author Musings <strong>__- I feel dirty! Emo!Snape's mind is not somewhere I'd choose to go of my own accord. Nevertheless, I think this came out quite well and goes some way to explaining how he went from Snivellus, a weedy teenager, to Severus Snape, a feared and powerful wizard._

_I should point out that of the three pieces of poetry, only the last is mine. 'To a fair flower' belongs to respitechristopher and appears here with his permission, as does Sara Winter's untitled poem from her own story, 'The Prank'. They are both a billion times better than my own effort and I suggest you check them out: Story ID's 4462784 and 4408046 respectively. _

_Finally a nod to JK, who, as well as owning anything and everything to do with Potter, wrote the speech quoted in italics._

_Right, I'm back to work on my next Harmony story now, so...till next time peeps. _


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